If She Continued
by Kyraillion
Summary: What would have happened if Christine had finished the Phantom's Opera? This follows the movie arch, although I have read the book. Review please! Sorry if it's a tad angsty...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first fic of 2007! So that alone makes it special right? Yey! ¡Feliz 2007! Here's to another great year!**

**IF SHE CONTINUED:**

**Chapter One:**

The corset clung to Christine so tightly she was barely able to breathe,... but that was normal. Here she was in a harlot's costume, singing not to the crowd, as one would expect, but to her angel. And she was scheming to betray him.

She tried not to think about that. She had to unmask the Phantom. That was only way for her to have a normal life with Raoul.

But did she want that?

She didn't know. Christine had never been more confused in her life.

And then came her Angel of Music. She knew he would have to appear and take his part of Don Juan.

He was so handsome. She nearly swooned when his voice filled the stage, the entire opera house. There he was in all black, cape billowing about him. His customary white mask was replaced with a black one. For a moment, the horrible deformity she had seen did not cross her mind. He was whole, he was beautiful. His voice made her tremble.

She continued the role she had been given, singing in low and throaty tones to her angel, asking when the flames would at last consume them.

She looked up at Raoul. His face was anxious. He didn't even consider the possibility that Christine could hold an ounce of feeling for that monster of a man.

But she did.

He had always been there for her. He had wiped her tears away with his comforting words when she was but a small child. And now his feelings for her had blossomed into a beautiful, precious flower. He loved her. How could she betray him like she was planning? Ho could she?

Her eyes rimmed with tears as they both continued to sing.

And then his hands wrapped around her waist and traveled over to hers. Then he traced them up her bosom to the nape of her neck. Never in her life had Christine felt more passion, more love. When Raoul kissed her, it was never like this. When he touched her, she never shivered so much.

Then the great composer deviated from his script. He sang to her, and only to her.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime,_

_Lead me, save me from my solitude_

_Say you want me with you here_

_Beside you_

_Anywhere you go let me go to!"_

What was she to do? The split second decision had arrived, and inside her heart nearly burst in two. What choices were there? Betray her angel, her only friend for years and live with Raoul and also live with her remorse, knowing she would lead to this man's death, or continue the opera, letting the Phantom continue his aria and his life.

"_Christine, that's all I ask of-"_

She put her hand to his cheek... and caressed it.

His voice lowered. "_you."_

Here she would have to adlib. None of this was in the script, or in the score, but she knew the words to say.

"_All you want is freedom,_

_A world that's full of love_

_And me always beside you,_

_To guard you and to guide you_

_Always alone in darkness_

_Let me be your light _

I'm here, nothing can harm you 

_My love with hold and warm you_

_Love me,_

_Mon ange,_

_That's all I ask of you."_

The kiss that followed was the most zealous Christine had ever felt. All in an instant, her fears were banished, her worry thrown away. All she knew was love for the man whose arms she was in, whose tongue was gently stroking hers. She knew she had found love. Shivers went down her spine.

The red velvet curtain came to a close.

It was time to change the scenery.

He finally pulled away, slowly, as if he was uncertain that he could ever return to the place he just left.

"I love you Christine," he panted, his breath taken away by that heart-pounding kiss.

She finally realized that what she felt for Raoul, though strong, was nothing compared to her tenderness and ardor for the man before her. "I love you too..." she paused, realizing that she didn't even know his real name. He had always been the Angel of Music to her, or the Phantom. Neither name worked now.

"Erik," he whispered.

"You mean everything to me, Erik."

The two gently turned, hands still locked together to go down the spiral staircase to prepare for the next scene. But instead of seeing the customary prop movers, their weary eyes fell upon soldiers, several soldiers, all armed with guns... pointing at Erik.

Author's Note: Well... there's the angsty end of chapter one... Hope you enjoyed. Well, if you have any thoughts at all, REVIEW! Please... If we break 20 reviews, you won't have to wait a week for the next chapter! So if you want more, or have any ideas at all, review please!!! I try to reply to all my reviews.


	2. Chapter 2

**If She Continued:**

**Chapter Two:**

Christine gasped as one of her hands broke from Erik's and flew to her chest. The other tightened its grip, as if by clinging on to him could save him from the fate everyone else believed he deserved.

"No! No!" was all she could get to escape from her lips.

He roughly shoved her behind him, trying to shelter her, but she wouldn't go. Instead, she slipped her foot around in front of his dark boot and managed her put herself in front of him.

He guns remained pointed, watching their query. And then he appeared.

"Raoul!" Christine pleaded. "Raoul! Please call them off! I beg you!" she screamed. "He's a changed man! Believe me! Just allow him a chance!"

His eyes flashed anger and hate. He didn't understand. Christine knew he never would.

"Don't kill him please!"

Raoul opened his mouth and sang to her. His voice was distorted with his rage. "_This is the trap we had set, now look at its prey!" _

_"_It's not true, Erik! It's not true!" She turned fiery gaze toward her fiancée. "Don't let them kill him! Please Raoul!" She stopped shouting. "It would kill me too. If you have any mercy, you will spare him. If you ever loved me at all..."

They were trapped on the spiral staircase. There was only one way to go from there. And that was to the roof. Erik knew of another door from there and tried to plan an escape as quickly as possible. But he knew it was all futile. He would never escape his fate.

"If it kills you too, then you deserve it! You must be in league with this monster! How could you do this Christine? I thought you loved me! How quickly the desires of your heart do change!"

"Forgive me Raoul! But this is the only choice I can make! He has ever been my friend. I can't stand aside and let him die! There are other chances for you Raoul. You still have a life ahead of you, but I'm the only salvation for Erik."

Erik gently tugged at her hand, backing the two of them step by step closer to the door to the roof, and their only chance of safety.

"Oh, so you pity him? You would break my heart for pity, Christine?"

"I love him," she whispered. "I love him! He's done so much for me, and I won't betray him now. Please, Raoul. Just let us go. You'll never see the two of us again, I promise!"

"I'm afraid," the chief policeman sneered, "that we do not stop prosecuting criminals who have a change of heart!"

The men at arms took aim and prepared to fire.

"Wait!" Raoul commanded. "You have no clear shot.If you fire, you will hit the girl, and she is not at fault."

Erik saw fingers wrap around triggers nonetheless. "You'll not harm her!" His voice rang out deep and clear as he pulled her up onto the roof, trying to shelter her with his body.

**Author's Note: Hey guys! You got so close to making the 20 review mark! You got fourteen,... so maybe you will make it this time. If you get up to 20 reviews for this chapter, (kudos, advice, anything) then I'll post sooner. If you have any suggestions, then suggest ahead!**


	3. Chapter 3

**If She Continued:**

**Chapter Three:**

A blast of cold air hit Christine in the face as the door swung open. Ungracefully, she stumbled quickly onto the roof. The skirt of her harlot's dress brushed about her ankles, thin and unprotective. Her bare feet slapped against the stone.

Erik grasped her wrist. His grip was demanding, but not rough. He tugged her over behind on of the Pegasi statues. He knew the men below would be shocked for the slightest moment, but would not be far behind. If he and Christine were still on the roof by the time the policemen made it up the stairs, then they were finished. Few other things crossed his mind at the moment. As he had when he was just a child, he fled for his newfound freedom and had no time for thoughts of anything else.

Christine glared coldly at the statue of the winged horse. Erik had hidden behind that very statue when she had professed her "love" to Raoul. The thought of it nearly broke her heart.

But what was she getting herself in to? Could this ever end happily? She doubted it. Such rash behaviour was new to Christine. She wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. But she didn't have the time to worry about that.

Erik frantically tugged at the door handle. Thankfully he had left it unlocked, just incase if he had needed it. Erik's overwhelming sense of paranoia often came in handy.

The door swung open, admitting the two.

Erik's heart fell at the realization that these men might discover some of his hidden passages.

"You must remain silent," he whispered as they ran, not daring to look behind them.

Christine bit her lip and nodded, squeezing slightly on Erik's hand to let him know she understood.

There were few places to hide on the top floor. All of the above ground floors of the Paris Opera house were devoted to the stage, seating, balconies, and other rooms for the guests to enjoy.

However, Erik knew of a ballroom on the top floor. The guests enjoyed it for its lofty views of the Paris streets. Erik knew it was one of the only hiding places for the next few stories of the opera house, and made a quick path for it.

They were painfully aware of the sound of the door swinging open once again. They had turned a corner already, so were out of sight, but necessarily out of earshot.

Erik turned sharply to face a door on the left. He pulled on the brass handle and found himself in the ballroom. Christine rushed inside as Erik shut the door without a sound. Hopefully Raoul and the others were making so much racket that they would not hear the two frightened souls trying to find a place to hide.

Erik and Christine never stopped moving. In one fluid motion, he steered their momentum to the closet on the far right of the room, to a door covered with a tapestry, so it would not draw attention away from the beauty of the ballroom.

It seemed to take hours before they were hopefully safely locked inside the cramped space.

They could hear footsteps rushing down the hall.

Inside the locked closet, Erik closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing.

Christine grasped his hands. Her corset was painfully tight, but there was nothing she could do about that at the moment. Running made it even more difficult for her to breathe. She wanted to mouth words of comfort to him, but that would have to wait. It was all she could do to keep from openly panting.

He rubbed his thumbs against her palms. Her hands were sweaty and clammy at the same time. He mentally kicked himself as hard as possible for instilling so much fear in her. Would this fear cause her to turn away from him yet again?

Opening his eyes, he saw little in the darkness. He was used to darkness, but this was pitch-blackness. In the lowest whisper possible he voiced, "I love you," trying to convey in three tiny, barely uttered words, all of his emotions that he might never get the chance to say.

**Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm so sorry I'm a day behind on updating. With all-region band clinic yesterday, I didn't get back home until way too late. You almost made the required amount of reviews, but not quite. Thank you so much for all of you comments and suggestions. It means a lot to me. I don't do this for anything other than the reviews! So, again, as promised, if you get 20 reviews for this chapter only before Friday, I'll post it as soon as I get it written!**


	4. Chapter 4

**If She Continued:**

**Chapter Four:**

Christine gave Erik's hand a squeeze, trying to let him know that he was no longer alone. She prayed that he understood. She understood his fears. How many times had he been forced to hide, alone and hated by every human who laid eyes on his face?

She had seen that face. Yet for all of its grotesquesness, the face was _not_ the man. Erik's soul held the potential to become just as twisted and unnatural, hideous and hated, unless if someone showed him otherwise.

As much as he hated to admit it, Erik knew he needed Christine. He had always been on his own. The world shunned him, so he had shunned the world. Or, so it had been before he found Christine.

With her he found someone he could understand. At first her motives were immature, and her thoughts childish, but then her mind and imagination began to grow. However learned she became, however, she never lost faith in her angel. She confided in him, and looked forward to his reviews after every performance. With her, he could hide the things about himself that he hated; not only his face, but his vulnerability, his reclusiveness, everything about him that general society would find odd.

All Christine had needed to believe in him, was his voice.

Now he could not bestow that gift to her.

He had placed her in harm's way. How stupid had he been?!? Erik, master of trapdoors, king of stealth, had finally slipped up. He could live with that fact. But he would never be able to forgive himself if anything ever happened to Christine.

Footsteps.

Erik's acute hearing picked up the sounds of footfalls and voices long before they entered the ballroom.

He did not have to warn Christine to be quite. It went without speaking.

Outside of the thin protection of the nearly hidden closet door, the two could hear the conversation.

A deep voice spoke to the others. "I see no sign of them anywhere, Sir. Would you like my company to search the Opera House?"

Firmin's voice spoke next. "Of course! I want no room left untouched, search ev-"

Roaul cut him off. "No. Do not look for the two of them. Concentrate your efforts on the exits. They cannot stay in this opera house forever. If you comb over every room, you could still miss them. They could escape while you are searching somewhere else. If you guard the exits and major halls, then they will have nowhere else to hide. Even the greatest escape artists need to eat."

"I- I am the one in charge here!" Firmin ejaculated, his voice more high pitched than normal. "You take your orders from me, Sir! Though, I agree," he sighed. "But only for a short time. If they have not ventured out of wherever they are hiding by sunset tomorrow, then you have my blessing to rummage through the entire Populaire until that _monster_ is found!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Footsteps headed toward the direction of the exit.

"Wait!" The footsteps stopped. "Remember," Roaul stated, "Christine is not at fault."

"I beg to differ Sir," the policeman nearly spat, "but she is harbouring a criminal. That would make her guilty as well."

"I believe,... I believe she may have been brainwashed," Raoul whispered. "I've never known Christine to be this rash. I do not believe she could be in control of herself."

Christine had to hold back a chuckle at that. So Raoul couldn't accept that Christine would willingly choose someone else over him. If she didn't want him, then she had to be out of her mind. Or so he thought.

Again the policeman answered. "Yes, Sir."

The two listened in silence as the three men on the other side of the door exited the room.

Erik's chest constricted. He was barely able to breathe. 'Brainwashed'? Had he unintentionally brainwashed Christine? He knew his voice had a hypnotic effect on her. When he sang, she sometimes closed her eyes, and tilted her head, as if in some sort of euphoric trance. He felt the same pleasure when he heard her voice. Did he have some hold over her that made her free will void?

As if she could read his mind, Christine murmured in his ear, "I came of my own accord. Do not put stock in Raoul's empty words." Again she squeezed his hand.

This time he squeezed back.

Cautiously, he whispered in reply, "Thank you,"

"It'll be alright."

He nodded, although he doubted she could see. "Just let me think of a plan."

"You have my utmost confidence," Christine slid her hand up Erik's wrist, assuring him that he was not alone. Not this time.

**Author's Note: Hey! I barely made my self-imposed deadline! But, I did! So yey! I try not to rush this fic, but I try to update at least once every Friday. Let me make it clear that I try to update once a week, regardless of the number of reviews I receive. I suppose my last author's not lacked this clarity. I update even if the reviews do not reach the level I previously set. However, if they reach my goal, and I have the next chapter written, than I'll post it before the next Friday rolls around. However, I won't post a review goal for this week. I have all-state choir tryouts very, very soon, so it'll be a challenge just to keep my once a week deadline, much less any extra posting. Thank you for reading! I appreciate and consider all suggestions! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**If She Continued**

**Chapter Five:**

Erik closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. He had to think,... clearly. Ideas raced through his head all at once. Among the massive jumble, nothing made sense. He focused on breathing deeply and exhaling quietly to calm his frantic nerves.

Christine shifted positions in the cramped space. She tried to come up with an idea. Anything, any slightest suggestion she could come up with could come in handy. But try as hard as she could, the only things that would come to mind were the memories. It seemed her entire time with Erik since he had revealed himself to her flashed in her mind's eye.

Without even thinking about it, Erik began to hum. His voice stayed low, even though he knew the guards were posted at the bend in the hall, the way they had came, and were not able to hear him. This semi-subconscious action further helped him to calm his fears.

First, he focused on his major goal; to be safely out of Paris with Christine, where he would hopefully not be hunted down. To accomplish that goal, he first had to safely escape from the building of the Opera Populaire. In order to do that,... he had to sneak past the armed police officers.

Christine noticed his humming. It seemed to change with his thoughts. This man seemed so obsessed with music. He had called his underground home The Seat of Sweet Music's Throne. But that was who he was. Erik was the Angel of Music. It was his calling, his life. With a disheartening feeling, Christine realized that for most of his life, his music had been his only friend as well. So that was why he loved it so much. With no one to turn to for comfort, Erik had sought the companionship of soothing, stirring melodies to assure himself.

She hated it. Why couldn't anyone else give this man a chance? Why could no one else look past the horror hidden by a wax mask to see the innate good hidden behind the sheltering curtains of Erik's solitude? Christine felt so helpless. She found herself sighing, and changing positions once again.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a plan began to weave itself around Erik's mind. If he could safely escape the Opera House, he was confident that he could escape Paris. He just needed a distraction in order to get to the ground level, out of the doors, and into the Paris streets.

What would prove to be a suitable distraction?

Then it came to him. The perfectly crafted, dazzling chandelier sparkled brightly in his imagination. Not only did he know how to reach the catwalks to get to it, he also knew how such a heavy object managed to stay suspended above the stage.

The magnificent fixture was far to heavy to hang from a single cord attached to the ceiling. It was attached to several counter-weights, balancing out the unsupported weight of the chandelier and distributing it to several different places in order to stay aloft.

If he could get to just one of the counter-weights, he could cut the cord, causing the chandelier to lurch, but not fall. The guards would all be called over to help secure the weight and keep the gargantuan contraption from plummeting onto the stage.

While the officers were thus preoccupied, Erik and Christine could slip unnoticed to the ground level of the Opera House and whisk themselves away out of the rarely used prop entrance at the rear of the Opera House.

There was only one problem.

Erik estimated that one or two guards stood in the path from the ballroom, to the uppermost parts of the stage. The only route to the nearest room housing a counter-weight was by using the hallway. The hallway was open. There would be no place to hide.

Quietly, he voiced his opinion to Christine. She listened attentively. Hope flickered intently in her eyes. Her face did not fall when he uttered his only concern.

"I could help with that," she whispered. "I could find the guard in the hallway and convince him that I fled from you. He would immediately take me to Raoul. At that moment, you could sneak past."

"Raoul is not intirely stupid. He would not let you out of his sight. You would not be permitted to ever leave his side," he sneered. "Besides, would he honestly believe that my hold over you could be broken so quickly?"

"Raoul is arrogant, Erik. He believes what he wants to, without question. Until he saw you with his own eyes, he did not believe you existed, although I had told him countless times otherwise. Besides, I am after all, an actress. Perhaps I could convince him that I was finally able to break your 'hypnotic hold' over me, and see the 'truth'."

"Hrmmm," he muttered. "It could work, but how would you join me once I escaped? He'd never let you leave."

"You would have to leave at once. As soon as he finds me, he would have the entire Opera House scoured until he found any sign of you. He would stop at no lengths to see you dead. However, I believe I can convince him to put me in Madame Giry's care. And,... If I cannot convince him to do so, she undoubtedly can. From there, I could escape and find you."

"You believe you could pull it off?"

"I do. Could you make it out in time?'

"Of course,... but Christine, this could put you even closer in harm's way." He found her hands once again and used them to pull her closer to him. She found his lap and curled herself on top of him.

Leaning her head against his chest, she could feel his heart beat. It was rhythmic and tranquil, as if it were unaware of how frightening and complicated this situation was. "I assure you, I'll be fine. I know I can do this. I only need to know two things."

"What are they, Christine? You know I would tell you anything. I will pledge anything you ask."

"One of these things I am already sure of, but I would like to hear it again. Tell me you love me, Erik. Please, one last time before we're separated."

"Christine," he murmured. "You mean more to me than my own life. I love you with all that I am. For me to stop loving you would mean that I had stopped breathing. You are the only person who has ever tried to understand me, and you are, you are everything to me."

Tears stung her eyes once more. Erik never failed to amaze her. With mere words, he could wrap his love around her heart and hold her close. Her lips found his in a passionate kiss. She never wanted that moment to end.

Unfortunately, it did.

"The second thing," he whispered uncertainly.

Christine bit her lip. She had scared him. He believed that she would ask him to take off the mask. Even in the dark he was still afraid that his abnormalities would frighten her away. He trusted her, but he did not know how to trust himself.

She cupped his bare cheek in her hand, turning his face towards hers in the blackness.

"Where could I find you?"

She heard him sigh his relief. "I would travel to the next city over, Evry. I know of an old church building there. It is abandoned. When I was with the gypsies, we camped there for some time. As far as I know, it is still standing. I would wait for you there, for as long as I need. It is close by. You could easily take a carriage into the town, and then find the church by yourself. It is an old simple building, with but a single spire, the walls are whitewashed, and an old rusty bell hangs from the loft."

"I am certain I could find it. I believe it would take me only a couple of days to escape."

Now he was at a loss for words. Christine was willing to risk everything for him. She was risking her freedom for his life. He would never leave that tiny church without her. If he had to die there waiting, then he would.

"Are you certain you are willing to do this?"

"If I were not certain,..." Christine hung her head in shame, "then I would not have finished that scene in your opera. I love you, Erik. I am more certain now, than ever."

"Then we will go when you are ready."

Christine snuggled closer to his chest, inhaling his unique scent. "Just hold me for a while first."

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for your reviews! I really do use your suggestions! A big shout out goes to Whisper of the Winds for supplying the information and the idea about the counter-weights to the chandelier. I was honestly at a loss as to how to write Christine and Erik out of this corner I seemed to have gotten them trapped in to. However, you'll just have to wait and see if it works out for them or not! Thank you again, and review please! Again, I'll post as soon as possible, regardless of the date. Tryouts are on the horizon! Only FOUR days away!!! I think I'll go practice more now! Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**If She Continued:**

**Chapter Six:**

Christine slipped silently from the closet into the ballroom. Carefully, she made sure the tapestry hid as much of the door as possible. From there she made her way into the ballroom. She wished she had a candle. The room was growing darker as night fell on Paris.

After taking a moment to lay eyes on the nearly empty streets below, Christine made her way across the room and into an adjoining ballroom. From there she started running.

As she ran toward the hall, she let out a shriek. Better to let the guards find her out of breath and terrified to make her story more plausible.

Just as she came to the door, the door swung open, admitting a guard with his rifle at the ready.

She didn't stop. She slowed slightly and clung to him, swinging herself behind him, as if to shelter herself from some unseen terror.

"What is this all about?" Firmin demanded as he stormed into view. "Have you found th-"

His eyes fell on Christine. "What the duce? You've found the girl, but where is that hideous, elusive phantom?"

"I- I have no idea, Sir," the guard stuttered. "She just,... and I,"

"Well which way did she come from?" He spat. "Send your search parties that way!"

"She came from that direction, Sir!" He yelled, pointing in the opposite direction from which Christine had came.

Bending slightly, and putting her hand to her chest, Christine tried to gasp out Raoul's name.

"Yes, yes," Firmin scoffed. "It seems you've changed your mind again,... I'll take you to him, then."

Raoul ran full-force into the room. "That was Christine's scream, where is she?"

"Here, Raoul!" she flew at him, wrapping him a tight hug. "Forgive me,... I had to," she sobbed into his shirt. "He would have killed me. He would have killed us all!"

Raoul ran a hand over her trembling head, feeling the smooth silkiness of her hair.

"I saw death in his eyes, Raoul. Death!"

"Shh,..." He shushed her, trying to calm her nerves.

"Well, we are obviously all rattled!" Firmin threw a hand into the air. "And what do you believe we should do now, Oh Mighty Raoul? You obviously seem to be the man with the plan," he bickered.

Failing to notice the obvious venom and sarcasm, he answered, "Send the police to search this level of the building. Surely he is hiding here. I will get Christine away from here. As long as that fiend is here, she is in danger."

Christine clung to Raoul with renewed vigor.

"Come, sweet. Don't worry. It's all right. You are safe with me now." He patted the hilt of his sword.

"I- I escaped from him near the other end of the building," Chritine pointed. "Look there. Find him before he kills me! Oh, he is sure to kill me now!" she howled.

"Then let us leave," Raoul whispered. Turning to the officer in the hall and the disheveled manager, he raised his tone. "Find him now. What are you waiting for? Kill him before he finds a way to kill us all!"

With that, Raoul started at a swift pace down the hall toward the grand staircase. Christine hugged his arm, using it to support and steady herself. So much had happened. So far, it all seemed to be going according to plan. But would it really work? Christine squeezed Raoul's hand, wishing with all of her heart that it was Erik she was leaning on, and Erik's hand in her own. As she fled, she sent up a silent prayer for her father, or anyone who was listening to look after her angel.

Author's Note: Hey guys. Wow. It's been an insanely long time since I've updated. Sorry about that. It had nothing to do with the amount of reviews.

**I've been suffering from a bit of writer's block. That, and I've been super busy. All State tryouts went well. I made it, then whisked away to clinic for a week. Then came Choir Region and State CPA competitions. Followed by Drum Major tryouts, which also went successfully, then the AP World History exam.**

**So much stress made my writing really crappy, for lack of a better explanation. **

**Now it's summer though, so hopefully I can get back on schedule...**

**Thanks for reading! And review!**


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